


Don't Try To Wake Me In The Morning, Cause I Will Be Gone

by Supernaturalaholic12



Series: Matthew Has Emotions: The Series [2]
Category: Dreamer Trilogy - Maggie Stiefvater, Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied Drug Use, Implied Sexual Assault, Panic Attack, declan is a good brother, matthew has a panic attack, not explicit tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27610766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supernaturalaholic12/pseuds/Supernaturalaholic12
Summary: Matthew has a panic attack. He doesn't cope well, and Declan's there to help out.
Relationships: Declan Lynch & Matthew Lynch
Series: Matthew Has Emotions: The Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980977
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	Don't Try To Wake Me In The Morning, Cause I Will Be Gone

Matthew Lynch woke to the sound of crying.

It took a moment for him to realise it was crying, and another to realise it was him.

It was another second before he was kicking the covers off his body, and curling in on himself as he clawed at his neck like he was choking. He wasn’t, of course, why would he be? It was fuck’o’clock in the morning and he was safe in bed.

He still clawed at his throat because _there was something on his throat and he couldn’t breathe he couldn’t breathe and he was choking and he couldn’t think._

His shirt came away from his throat with ease, it was a simple t-shirt he wore to bed. It was a Spider-Man t-shirt, one he’d been gifted from Declan when he turned 16 and they saw a Marvel movie to celebrate. (The collar had been stretched out from many, many repeats of this situation, so he only wore it to bed.)

Another sob clawed up his throat and it _hurt_ because he hadn’t eaten since _lunch yesterday_ and he was _cold_ and _panicking_ and he needed _someone_ to hold him and tell him it was going to be okay because he could _feel hands on his skin_ and _capsules going down his throat_ and he wanted to _punch someone_ he wanted to kill _someone_ because _who the fuck does that-_

The floor was startlingly cold beneath Matthew’s feet because _of course it was, it’s winter_ and Matthew doesn’t wear socks to bed because he liked moving his legs around to heat himself up.

The room lurched around Matthew as he hauled himself to his feet and- oh, because he was _falling_ and the floor was rushing up to meet him and- ow, that hurt. It took another minute ~~and another couple collapses, and a lot more crying and shaking~~ to get back up, and even then it was shaky and slow and he had to lean on things in between pulling at his collar and rubbing his arms for warmth and covering his mouth when he felt sobs building up because he did _not_ want to wake Declan up because what kind of _asshole_ wakes their insomniac brother up?

Matthew crept silently (as silently as he could, panicking and sobbing and dragging himself along because his legs wouldn’t cooperate) towards the second-floor bathroom because he _knew_ there was some Xanax in there and he was _not_ the asshole that was going to wake Declan up.

The door creaked open, and Matthew actually stopped breathing for a moment to be quiet in case he heard movement. That didn’t last long, his lungs were far too empty. He turned the light on and- his eyes burned and- he turned the light off. Not worth it.

With the door closing with a _click_ behind him and his hands holding him up and opening the mirror cupboard and searching Matthew had nothing to hold back the crying _still not stopping_ and nothing to stop the constant stream of _i_ __ne_ ed help i need help i need help i need help _

_i need help i need help_

_i need help i need help_

_please for the love of God someone help me please_

_please_

_please please someone help_

Matthew’s hands closed around a bottle and _finally_ because he could read _Alprazolam_ written on the side, illuminated by the small light from the window.

Matthew’s shaking hands closed around the bottle and squeezed and twisted and pushed down and twisted and- and the bottle wasn’t opening and it fell from his shaking hands and it hit the floor with a loud _crash_ and Matthew wasn’t expecting that to be his second breaking point but who gets to choose their breaking point?

Matthew covered his face again- his entire arm coming up to cover his mouth and accidentally his eyes, too. But that didn’t matter because Matthew could make the journey to Declan’s room in nearly any condition, including blindfolded and dying.

The cold doorknob was a sudden and short-lived shock to Matthew’s system, before he was turning the knob and slipping in the door and closing it quietly behind him and he wasn’t breathing again because he had to be _quiet_ damnit and-

“Matthew? S’that you?” A half-asleep voice from the bed. Declan. Fuck.

Matthew was (very) ashamed to admit he couldn’t hold his breath that long, and then he let out a single sob before he was covering his mouth again.

Declan ~~probably tired of this~~ _ ~~bullshit, Matthew~~_ just turned over and lifted the duvet in an invitation. Matthew quickly crawled under the warm cover and muffled his mouth with his brother’s shoulder instead.

Declan’s arms quickly wrapped around Matthew, familiar and warm and comforting. As much as he hated crawling into his brother’s bed, Matthew had to admit it helped.

“Nightmare?” Declan asked quietly, his hand rubbing a small circle on Matthew’s back.

“Mmmm.” Matthew was still shaking. It wasn’t really a nightmare, he couldn’t remember anything between falling asleep and waking himself up with crying. It was just easier agreeing.

“Did you get into the medicine cabinet? I heard the door open.” Matthew shook his head, hiding another sob by turning his head inwards, towards Declan’s neck.

“Mkay, close your eyes for me?” Matthew nodded his head. It’s not like he could see anything anyway. “Good job. We’re gonna work on your breathing now, yeah? In through your nose and out through your mouth, copy me.”

Matthew did his best to copy, it was easier with Declan running his knuckles along Matthew’s spine in time with the quiet numbers being mumbled into his ear.

“In, two, three, four.” Up the spine. “Hold, two, three, four.” Waiting at the top, in between Matthew’s shoulderblades. “Out, two, three, four.” Down, stopping at Matthew’s middle back for another two, three, four before starting again.

“Just like that, Matty. You got this. You’re okay.” Matthew was never sure why he avoided just going to Declan to begin with when he was already there. Not three minutes ago it seemed like admitting defeat, but now his breathing was back under control and he was warm and his throat felt like normal and the only hands he could feel were real.

“Better?” Declan asked, his hand stopping midback. He got a quiet ‘mmm’ in response, Matthew was _really_ sleepy now. Declan chuckled. “I assume I’m getting a guest for the night?” The response to this was a slightly more indignant ‘mmm’, which earned another laugh.

Declan shifted, moving onto his back. He muttered something that sounded like ‘may as well get comfortable’. It gave Matthew enough light to see that Declan was wearing an Iron Man shirt - matching in the sense both Matthew and Declan’s shirts were bought at the same time for the same purpose. Matthew was too sleepy to think about that.

Matthew fell back asleep, less than half an hour since he woke up, curled up against his brother warm and content.


End file.
